


Heart of a Whale

by inknoodle



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Holidays, Non-Consensual Brainwashing, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27954362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inknoodle/pseuds/inknoodle
Summary: Tower Records is, like, a real place. I didn't really know that before I wrote this, but, until I find something else or get threatened with the law, I'll be using it as a placeholder.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

That day was like any other day at Tower Records, with added Squidmas flair, very unsuspicious. Baubles of red and green were thrown lazily around the room, each one with an employee's name on it, whether they made music or had taste for it. Kusatta, the head, sat at the very front of the table, all his minions arriving soon after. They patiently awaited his words, staring right at him.

A single whale shark sat at the far end, timidly avoiding eye contact. Kusatta took attendance and began. He'd been quite careless with his unit so far. Perhaps it was a Squidmas thing. Holidays were always spirit lifters, and inklings were in the sector as well.

"Now, without further ado, I give you all my latest project!" He stood up and stepped aside, revealing a chart that was strange out of context. It had small pictures of random band members posted on there, including the Squid Sisters. Everybody looked just as confused as the average person would.

"This is the Squidmas Experiment. For today and today only, our bands will be donating their own personal items for a tree."

"A tree?" murmured a starfish. "That's quite boring."

Kusatta hadn't heard them, but it sounded like he had.

"Oh, but it gets better! Apparently, our CEO wanted yours truly to present. They've 'got something' for all of them that allows them to give things like this."

He held up a fabricated ink sac, possibly one made for grade school science classes, droning on about how they'd donate these. To demonstrate further, he raised all sorts of organs from sea creatures. They were fake but still gave everybody quite a shock.

"Are you sure?" asked the whale shark. "This could be terrible, this could be dangerous, th-this could be-"

"I'm sure."

She gasped in disbelief, looking at her co-workers to help back her up, but everybody was static. One in particular adjusted her tie.

"He's right, Miss. How would they act when it came down to this?"

A lever was behind the head, waiting to be pulled. He stood before it now, looking at the group picture above. Some members walked around as all the bands, at least which wanted to participate, looked at the camera, giving some sort of expression catering to their personality. They looked like it was the last time they'd be content in their lives. His glasses obscured his eyes and he placed his hand on the lever. It was pulled with swiftness, a smile flashing on his face right after.

"Yes," he muttered. "How _will_ they deal with it?"

Few producers made a sound, and when they did, they clapped. More joined in and turned the room into a space of acclaim. Gears churned, sending unidentifiable liquid into what could only be the rooms of the bands. The questioning woman at the back sat in sadness, keeping silent while the other directors and employees cheered and nodded in exceptional agreement. Why were they so happy about something so repugnant? A shark tugged at her arm before she could speak up again.

"Why aren't you excited?"

"I can't cheer about something like this!" 

She finally snapped, getting angry enough to plunge the room into dead silence. The head turned towards her, signaling how bad she'd made the situation. As scary as he was, she refused to stop. Her sense of justice pushed putting an end to this to the front of her mind.

"Ms. Orec, please take a seat. You should not be getting involved in this."

"You're the head director, _you_ shouldn't be involved in this! You're endangering them!"

He sighed and snapped his fingers. An employee tackled Orec, apprehending her.

"We got some, they're coming in!" said one employee. This grabbed Kusatta's attention, and he pointed to who held back Orec.

"How very amazing. _Gut her._ "

Yet again, everybody roared with excitement. Orec kicked and lashed out at the announcement, being dragged away soon after. Despite the stress and obvious calls for action she made, they fell on deaf ears. The head was glad it was over, turning around and showing his pride in the explanation. He was the ringleader. Chaos ensued in front of him, but he only had one thought.

Why weren't traditions _always_ this fun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tower Records is, like, a real place. I didn't really know that before I wrote this, but, until I find something else or get threatened with the law, I'll be using it as a placeholder.


	2. Chapter 2

The agents passed by all sorts of colorful decorations, one apparently made by a member of each band. Some were made with love and care, while others seemed to be the same shape. Tower Records was Eight's favorite place because of the bands, hanging out, and getting to see what instruments she could be good at. Four and Three both had some skill, too. Marina got special stickers just for them, with Eight's being a question mark. Sure, she was good at something, but who would want a violin player?  
Multiple people in flashy or plain clothing passed by without a second thought, going about their lives, but with red and green thrown into their lives without a second thought. They could practically feel it in their collective souls if they even had any.

Marie and Callie were with the teens, such peculiar girls, Off the Hook not too far behind, and kept them distanced from the crowd. Eight would go wild if she saw anybody she liked. She was always energetic. Referring to the members of the Squidbeak Splatoon by their numbers was no challenge because of the surreal nature they inhabited. They gathered away from the door when they got in, watching everyone spread out. Callie huddled with Three and Eight while Marie kept Four closeby.

"You're really gung ho about this, aren't you, Eight?"

"Of course I am! I get to see all of my favorite bands right here, right now!"

"I dunno," Four called, responding to something Marie had said. "Maybe they're doing an event."

Marie looked at all the walls. They were dotted with Squidmas pictures sent in by certain band members. They didn't all have to participate, and even if they did, there'd be no room, someone already beating them to it using polaroids from half a decade ago.

"Oh, wow," Marie chuckled. "Who's got this many pictures with their parents or anyone, for that matter?"

"I thought you would've. You've seen them at least once this year, right?"

"Nah. Don't think I gotta."

"Really? I think-"

A loud squeal interrupted both, who then narrowed their eyes knowing that Eight's favorite band had arrived. To the surprise of neither, she was spotted swarming around them and jumping in glee. Four put her hands in her pockets, staying out of the encounter, while Marie strode across the floor to witness it. No amount of autographs or people trying to pull her back would've stopped her, and even saying she loved them would be an understatement. Three quickly filled in for Marie as more musical employees went upstairs and conversed wherever.

Three, already wanting to leave, carry a heavy case on her back. The stickers on it looked oddly familiar.

"Why'd you bring that?"

"Hands off, Four! If anybody wants me to play, I will. Plus, look at this thing!" She unzipped it, revealing a shiny red bass guitar.

Four begrudgingly got why it was that specific instrument pretty quickly.

"Squid Squad broke up two years ago."

"Well, it's about to be three! Leave me alone!"

On the other side of things, everybody else was gawking at Eight's strangely determined manner with how she approached her favorites. She'd already gotten a signed album, but they were friends with Off the Hook, and that made her mind practically explode. All of her rambling eventually led to an abundance of thankings, with her being pulled away by Three right after.

"They're so amazing! I wish I could be like them someday."

"Yeah, yeah, we get that you love them."

These two were no stranger to bickering, especially about 'those boys Eight fawns over all the time'. Their bickering caused Callie and everybody else to come over. Marie always said that their arguments were the essence of two nerds fighting.

"Well, maybe if you stopped focusing on them, you could decide what instrument to pick!"

Callie rushed in and grabbed Three by the back of her shirt.

"You know what I think? Why don't we just go upstairs? We even have our own lounges!"

And so, they made their way upstairs, the same as many other people. Everybody rested in the Squid Sisters' lounge, where Pearl was already rummaging through the fridge like a raccoon. Marina would've scolded her, though that would've been hypocritical, as she was quite hungry too. Food was restocked to the brim, causing everybody to gawk at the shining beacon of light, but there was one problem. Pearl squinted.

"There's no leftovers?"

"No leftovers?"

Marie and the others groaned in disappointment, Pearl simply climbing inside. Callie was glad to help, grabbing her shoes to help pull her out if she got stuck. Marie cunningly sat and watched, waiting for something to hit Callie in the face. Instead, she pulled Pearl out, holding up the holder who held a big white box stained with splotches of grease. Sweet smells filled the room, and everybody could've sworn it glowed with the mystery of what was in it. Pastries were! Individually bagged with cards containing the names of them and where they came from, which were all the old countries.

"Let's see," Callie picked up a card, with Pearl taking the one next to it. "I got...Goolab Juhmoon?"

"That's not what it is! Gulab Jamun, Callie. I got a lotus seed bun. Delish, right? Pick another!"

Callie cracked her non-existent knuckles and took a deep breath.

"Muh-kroode?"

"Makroudh. Looks gross."

"Pastry heart? Ew!"

"It's not real, Callie."

"Pineapple bun. Looks delicious, but I don't like pineapple."

"There's no pineapple in it, it just looks like a pineapple."

"Oocpoocmauk?"

"Excuse me?"

Everybody else watched with interest, disdain, or plain annoyance, with Marie being the last two. Pearl and Callie argued over the names and weird lines over and under the letters. With everything being drowned in a riddle and coated with fifty layers of question marks, there was no reason for these not to be gobbled up, Pearl and Marie doing it without a second thought. Eating like an absolute animal was not out of the question for Pearl, except if it was of this caliber. Warabi visibly backed away from Pearl, and Three pulled Eight away from Marie.

"What's up with you guys eating like that, anyway?" Four slowly spun around in her chair.

"No substance," Marie said, covering her mouth, chock-full of food. "Just a thing to make Callie mad."

"You think it's working?"

Callie sat in the corner, face frozen in absolute disgust, and it only got worse with Pearl and Marie staring at her, the others following suit. Both girls in the room broke into laughter, then the others half-followed suit, but they refused to quiet down. Eventually, genuine worry was shown, with Marie crouching by her cousin.

"Are you sure you still wanna eat, Cal? I don't usually eat like that."

"Not really, I'm good. I already ate before I came here. I'll just eat later."

"Alright."

Down the hall were a positive and chirpy few, their bassist and drummer disappearing somewhere. Normally, this wouldn't happen, as both left alone were known for being nearly out of their minds. Paruko had put a napkin in between her and Noiji, currently complaining about how stuffed he was. It was just them, his banter, and a hollowed-out minifridge, courtesy of Shikaku. A few minutes later, he was asleep. Leaving Paruko alone, under any circumstance, was a horrible idea, and this notion was supported by every single person she had met.

Her eyes were infected with a sting, and a spot on her body surged endlessly. In the view of another person, let alone her entire band, she couldn't possibly do this, but a strange urge wouldn't let her opt out Out came wiggly strange tissue with a strange smell and an even weirder substance dripping onto the floor. Something about this felt right, muting every other sound in the room except for a cacophony of different shoes approaching.

Whatever would happen going forward, after this, she'd be sure to be monitored at all times possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays.


	3. Run Squid Run

Those food-covered chemicals worked wonders inside of the bodies of nearly all inside. Even if the process was a bit slow, it always worked eventually. Hearts and other squiggly sea creature remains were discarded, stapled onto the walls, and tangled into the carpet. All the red and blue violence covered every surface available like a Bomb Rush had gone off.

Adrift at sea was a bright-pink wonder, nervously going about her life. Squishy, almost nauseating bags of biology she didn't know about before this were at her feet out of nowhere. Then, and only then, did it strike her right in the head. How her shoes were stained with putrid, smelly, sticky gunk! Mystery liquid began to leak into her shoes, soaking those and moving into her socks.

Doom was only certain for her, but she refused to give up, frantically looking around before running straight into the back of a door, with a noticeable slam to follow. Immediately, she collapsed to the floor at the mercy of the very one she used to mentor. Her bright emerald eyes glared with an unknown emotion.

"Callie? What are you doing here?"

With that question, she was stunned. Three's unfitting serenity combined with the silent atmosphere was almost worse than the organs.

"I was making my way through here. Do you know a shortcut to the exit?"

"You've been here for a while, I thought you would know. Make sure you donate first."

Donate? Quickly, she nodded, being allowed to go free. After the mess Marie and Pearl made, she planned to navigate the building randomly. If anything, this was at the back of her mind. A kind gesture comforted Callie somewhat, with her being escorted to another horrible corridor.

"You look upset, Callie. I don't think you should walk down this corridor."

"No, no, it's-"

Her balance didn't like lies, it quickly giving out and putting her in a concerned Three's arms.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know! Put me somewhere without all this sticky gross stuff!"

Three pondered. "You're right. I cut off my hand, but I don't feel too great."

"You what?!"

As if she were dumb, Three stared at her, then pointed to her shirt. 'I Donated' in bubbly font with red striped and blue stars, including a pin nearly identical. Revealed by her, you would receive one of these if you donated, but it wasn't mandatory, only adding to the impossible luck of Callie. Everybody would assume she didn't wear her shirt and move on, and she'd be out of here in no time!

"They have a checklist, too, but it's not that good of a system."

"What happens if you have a problem?"

"A problem? I'd say you should go consult one of the adults. The ones with us. Do you want me to-"

Rudely interrupting, Callie sped off down the grey, dusty, concrete corridor, legs conveniently recovering. Rought terrain wouldn't stop her, seeing how easily she slid under the window of a particular room. Up above, a small conversation took place. Many others did, but she only caught the closest one.

"What's up with Paul, anyway? Why can't he participate?"

"He's _ten,_ Fin? Don't you have morals?"

"You're talking to _me_ , so no."

Thinking of Paul took the edge off. Considering all the good things said about him and how adorable he looked, she was glad that these beasts had some sort of sympathy for a kid. No time for that! After all this, her shoes would surely have to be replaced, but it would be better than having to stay with these sadists. Suddenly, a hope spot appeared. A faded number stuck out, giving her the impression that she would find someone unaffected. These grounds, however, were a free-for-all, who knew what would happen?

Callie slunk past the unsecured door, only stopping to witness another donation. One that would've gotten no attention if it wasn't nauseating. She was in complete denial about who it could be, regardless of perceptible evidence. All she could do was peer inside with a single eye. Utensils were laid around as the perpetrator hummed and found one to pick. He grabbed the sharpest, lifting his sweater past his torso.

It was in his knowledge that he was being watched by her. He was neither oblivious nor an idiot. This was a prank beyond acceptable that would soon go away. And if it was, why her? She pinched herself, repeating the belief that it was all a nightmare, which would explain why she watched carefully when he slashed himself vertically with a quick swipe of the blade. What was inside was only obscured by her shaky vision. He admired his straight, clean cut.

One arm plunged into his guts, the other discarding the instrument somewhere else. With fidgety extremities, he searched for an unspecified organ. Callie didn't know for sure and hoped it wasn't what she thought. Purple ink stained his arm as he pushed deeper, abruptly retracting with every milestone hit. Something possessed him. It redirected itself wherever frantically. Dapples of color splashed the desk near him when he yanked it out entirely. He was still unable to locate his select appendage, so his motions became frantic, showing that his patience possibly strained. Still, beyond his body, his expressions were unknown. With a final snatch, he pulled out his ink sac. The liquid results of his hard work drooled onto the floor.

His head snapped back immediately after completion, eyes focusing to spot Callie.

"A visitor."

And with that, the rush began, and his shoes never left the ground. He was slow, initially, but picked up the pace. Callie broke free of her trance to run away, slamming the door behind her as she ran. If she didn't hurry, then he'd catch up, but a stray rock already did that for her, in spite of its size.

Ink splattered the concrete as Callie fell, the threat on top of her. Bloodthirst invaded his mind, his jaws snapping just barely at her skin. A sharp pain shot into Callie's neck, alerting her that the savage had sunk his teeth deep into her flesh, smearing pink across his maw. His original goal was to hold her down, but he was enjoying the feeling of her squirming against his weight.

"Please," she shakily pleaded. "Please let go. You're hurting me."

But sympathy wouldn't phase Ikkan. Not in this position, no. Callie hadn't donated her fair share. Opportunities popped up at every second. She only had herself to blame at this point. Willingness to escape faded as her bite began to ooze a mixture of purple and pink.

Shadowy green hues appeared in front of the hopeless, near-unconscious victim, who gasped in unexpected delight and reached out to her cousin.

"Marie, you're back!"

"Callie? What a relief! I was so worried about you."

Glittering dots were visible when Marie bent down, her charger scraping the floor with Callie attempting to grab it. This was her key out of here! Her eyes shone with anticipation, but, taking another look, it was gone and now in her back. Disturbingly, the light in her eyes was snuffed along with her awareness. All that was left was a murky residue of the girl who thought she had her chance. Still, a donation was a donation. Marie ignored the other Sister entirely, staring at the one that avoided the hand and aimed for the neck.

"You can let go now, dude."

Ikkan couldn't even make any noise, his teeth still deep in Callie's neck.

"Huh," she chuckled. "So you're feral now? Man, that food really messed you up good."

She gave him a quick pet and treated him like a dog, even letting him rip off a chunk of his catch. At least he made sure not to waste his food.


	4. You Don't Have The Guts

In the donation box, Four and Eight peeked inside, playing a game to see which were which. Eight's arm was gone completely, the same with Four's foot. A crusty stump remained along with her boots, which were looser now. Two past idols had donated their tongues, and a few more inc sacs and plain flesh were discovered. Some lagged behind, but lots were inside the donation center, with a covered-up show-stopper in the middle.

"Look at all these donations!" Eight stared at the parts, unblinking. "What do you think the origin is of...this one?"

Four stared down at something she couldn't describe.

"That one? No idea. Let me think..."

* * *

* * *

Well, this was boring. Nishida and Kuze most likely wouldn't be back for a half-hour, and he was all alone. Funnily enough, a big part of the office was dedicated to fishing gear. Until now, Taka had never wanted to touch them, but something told him he had to. Nobody was watching, but a window was placed right where he sat, so he hopped off a chair, ducked down under it, and made his way to the right side of the office, grabbing one shiny, green fish hook.

That's when something hit him. He slowly took the hook and put it down his throat, thinking about just what would come out if he yanked it too hard. Taka pursed his lips and made sure to get it as far away from his tongue as possible before grabbing the line with a shaky hand and suddenly pulling it out. The movement was sudden, whether he expected it or not, and he began to cough before getting himself together and spotting something on the ground. Even if he did excel in academics, that was for music, not whatever the gross, veiny mess on the cold, cold hardwood was supposed to be. It was caught right on the hook and dripping blood. Eventually, he'd clean this up, but definitely not now.

Reluctantly, he grabbed it, but would refuse to turn it in himself, so he opened the door and looked for the next sucker he could con into doing his dirty work. That sucker was Karla, coincidentally walking by with a missing arm and a loose, chipped shell. Her face was visible, but not her eyes.

"Hey, um, Karla?" He awkwardly looked up at the slightly taller woman. "Could you donate this for me?"

Karla took it in her remaining hand, seeming not to mind how disgusting it was.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Also, what's up with the shell and your arm?"

The only answer she had for that was handing a serrated blade and a scalpel. Considering how smooth the cut looked and the fact that her shell, thought to be indestructible, was chipped shut him up for a while as the tapping of her heels echoed down the hall, leaving spots of red. Taka followed the spots with his eyes until Nishida appeared right next to him.

"Wow. You're back a little early."

"I know. I was just walking around the place. The people here are acting really strange. What were you doing?"

Taka looked around the hall before pulling Nishida inside.

"I just donated one of my guts," he whispered. "And I don't think I've done something more fun."

"...Please don't lie to me."

"I'm not even lying!" he said to a now freaked-out fish. "Come on, it was no biggie! I took this thing, shoved it right down my throat, and I got myself off the hook!"

"You what?! Why do we even keep that thing here? And what do you mean by 'off the hook'?"

Taka pointed at himself, seeming proud in the fact that he had essentially committed a crime against fishkind.

"I got it done pretty efficiently. You got fish hooks, fake worms, this huge snappy thing, all that! Karla took what I gave her, and now I'm fine!"

"Snappy thing? Karla came over and you didn't tell me?"

"We can forget about the whole 'Karla' thing, but yeah! Dunno what the snappy thing is, but here."

A risky throw it was, with whatever the snappy thing could've been catching right onto Nishida's shirt. Quickly, he cupped his hands around it, trying not to do any further damage.

"You donated one of your organs? That doesn't seem too ethical."

"Just some sort of gut feeling. It's not like I had a choice to ignore it."

"They just accepted it? Tower Records is for music, not whatever you did!"

Then, he proceeded to go on a long tangent about the spirit of music, how you can't give them your organs, all that. Taka, of course, pretended to care. Nishida froze as a loud squelch echoed through the room, and it took a while to register what just happened. The sudden movement was the possible reason his hand was pulsating. It felt warm despite this room being an icebox. Ever so slowly, he pulled away, but the throbbing wouldn't stop. He didn't want to look down in fear of what he'd find. Everything else was tuned out until now. Strangely enough, he heard cheering.

"See? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"What wasn't too bad?"

"Are you kidding? Look down, Nishi!"

In his hand was his very own heart. Taka seemed too excited about watching a now weakly-beating heart be ripped out without warning. He swiped it from the rightful owner and stared at it with awe. It seemed like he wanted to make Nishida vomit. How was carrying around the heart of your own kin enjoyable in any way? Whatever the answer, he seemed pretty happy, catching it in his hands and squishing it.

"You were hiding this from me?"

"That's my heart, you know."

"I do! If this wasn't a donation, I'd probably gobble it right up."

It was then that Nishida realized that he had a case of insanity on his hands.

"No," He looked down at the huge chest cavity. "No, that's not right!"

"Yeah, it isn't right! It's your heart. What's up with your 'moral high ground' complex, anyway?"

He tossed it again. One could donate body parts and pieces of flesh, so it was only fair that one half of a body part would work.

"Can I eat this? Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't."

"Ah! I know! You could..."

Taka raised an eyebrow.

"You could get sick?"

"Not good enough. One, two, three-"

Somebody else grabbed the heart before he could do the deed. At least nobody would have to hear a heart be eaten, let alone even seeing it. Sure enough, it was Kuze, back after doing...something. For the most part, he seemed fairly normal. Taka's choice of greeting was said with a gaping mouth, making it near unintelligible.

"Oh, ish you! Look, Nish, the gang'sh all here!'

"Yeah..."

Both of them were desperately trying to keep it together, with 'both of them' being Nishida, and Taka doing not a thing. That 'something' Kuze had left to do was miles more innocuous than this. As always, he had to stabilize the two again.

"Could you tell me what you're doing with that heart?"

"Oh, it's Nishida's. You would not _believe_ what happened! All he did was feel an itch in his chest and bam, his heart was out completely! Easy donation."

"Easy donation? Do you donate your guts?"

"Bingo! See this?!"

Again, the fish equipment was brought up, and so was an old anatomy chart of those legless fish ancestors that were so strange. It was easy to understand. Gills are here, heart is here, there's the brain, and eyes are here.

"If it really is that easy, why can't I just do this?" He pinched his cheek.

"That's not how it works, Kuz! You've gotta donate bigger. Better, even!"

"Bigger? Like, 'another body part' bigger?"

"Depends. You could donate an eye if you'd like."

Nishida, still sporting a huge hole in his chest, shook his head. Even if he did pull his heart out with one snatch, the idea of an eye being ripped out likewise wasn't all too great.

"Hold on, an eye? Are you sure you want to see that?"

Taka shrugged. "He won't be seeing anything if he goes through with it. Besides, I don't mind."

"You want him to go through with it?!"

"He could, I never said he had to."

Two sides presented themselves, persistent in convincing Kuze to do it or not.

"Think about what you're doing!"

"Oh, he's thought long and hard about this!" sneered Taka, turning away from Nishida. "I'll do it for you if you want, man. This is light work!"

"It's fine, you guys. I'll do it myself."

Nishida stopped in his tracks, and that fear paralyzed him just enough for Kuze to get the job done. And then he was blind, but only partially! So, since that was resolved, what would he do to cover it up? Besides, holding this eyeball--his eyeball--was starting to freak him out.

"I got it! How many people have seen you without that stupid hair tie?"

"Stupid? ...Three, I think? I'm not sure."

"Well, get rid of it! Express yourself. You didn't need your eye, who said you needed that?"

"I did. I thought I did."

A bright pink hair tie shot across the room, courtesy of Taka's antics, finally letting him ask this:

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know. I don't think I can really see. How do I look?"

"Great! You're amazing at this already!"

"Really? Thank you!" he beamed, showing off his sharp teeth in all their purple glory.

Since Kuze could express himself, why couldn't Nishida do the same? Optimistic and raising his hand, he asked the same question, getting a mean glare in return. 

"Go donate your guts then. I'm sure your personality will shine right through when you're forgetting your shirt size."

"Let him live, Taka. Why don't we all go together?"

"Fine."

* * *

* * *

"No dice," Four tapped her head with a fist. "Got anything else?"

Eight pointed at a tri-slosher with unknown residue and a plastic bag inside.

"This one?"

"Who knows? This looks like something Three would be interested in."

"Well, let's go back. Apparently, Marina's got something for you. And, speaking of Three, where _is_ she?"

Three was somewhere else. In a cold and concrete room with a dirty and dim lightbulb, she sat next to a pink and drippy charger, reading a random book she nabbed from a room. Nothing too interesting, but something Callie surely would've loved. Although, Three had to admit that she forgot what Callie liked, and Callie was her favorite. Everything in her brain was filled with blood and gore and other freakshow horrors. Three closed the book, staring at Callie.

"Callie?"

"...Hm? What is it?"

"Do you think you would've liked this book? Did I...Did I do good?"

"Of course you did! You always do good, Three. I couldn't thank you enough."

The entire conversation, Three kept her eyes on the book, not the girl. That was because Callie never said anything, and it was all in her head. Three attempted a smile, still focusing on the book.

"Thank you, Callie."

A near-silent drop of ink was her only response, and Three could only hold in her unease and sadness. Dust flew into her face when somebody kicked the door open, and there stood Marie, changed into something else. Her gloves, stained to hell and back, kept only some bright purple ink off her shirt, same as all the others.

"I think you know what happened with the gloves."

"...No? What happened with your hands?"

"Eh, nevermind. You don't _really_ wanna know, but it's gotta be seen to be believed. Come on, everybody else is out here!"

"What about my name? Can you still call me Three in front of everybody?"

"I fooled them into thinking it's your favorite number."

Three was dragged into another concrete room, but with surgical tools, stools that you sit in, chairs, and a bigger space. Everybody was hanging out normally, or so she wished, and talking like everything that happened never truly did. How could they have this much fun without Callie? This was disrespectful, unfair! Still, observing the couch, Off the Hook (minus Marina) and Diss-Pair were sitting there chatting, while Four and Eight sat in a corner speaking about disgusting things. 

However, Marie never told three about her gloves. 

When asked about it, the only thing she did was point to Ikkan and say, "There's your guy."

This was not the way Three wanted to see her role model. Nervously, she ventured toward him and shook his hand.

"Hello," she murmured.

Ikkan squeezed her hand, giving a warm, beaky smile. If she couldn't tell that something was up then, she could now.

"Where've you been?"

"Nowhere special..."

Below her hand was a huge, leaky, purple mess, with even the most absurd amount of bandages unable to keep it from bleeding. In fact, it was still bleeding through Ikkan's out-of-character Squidmas sweater. Warabi, on the other hand, was nervously keeping his gaze on it. Ikkan glared right into Three's eyes, paralyzing her instantly.

"I know you're staring. Rude to do that, y'know?"

"Y-Yeah, uh-huh..."

Well," He let go of her hand. "That's all I wanted from you. Nice shirt, by the way. Didn't have any in my size."

Ignoring whatever just happened, she went right. Marie was completely gone by now.

Four wiped the sweat off her head as ink seeped from her cast, crusted with the color. She had taken off her jacket and sat in a chair next to Three, still uncomfortable over donating her hand. A tray sat in front of her, brought in by Marie. On it was a body part, and one that was very important. A warning came attached, presumably from Marina. It told Four not to bite it until the membrane had been put into her mouth as a whole.

Three leaned closer, poking it and watching the ink inside swish around.

"Gross."

"I think it's fun."

"You won't shove that in your mouth, will you?"

"With you asking that, what do you think?"

In a second, Four wolfed down the sac entirely, puffing out her cheeks. Yellow started to come out of her mouth, and she swallowed loudly, asking for a drink from Eight. Happily, she obliged, opening the door and rushing outside before coming back with drinks for everybody, not just Four. She put them all into, as she called it, a 'ring-y loopy thing'.

"Why'd you get so many?" asked Three, being handed a juice box. "And why did I get one?"

Pearl ripped the tab off a can and took a long swig from it before answering.

"You don't remember? We asked everybody what they wanted to drink, and you said 'I don't know'. We were waiting for Four to put _something_ in, and here we are."

"Three says 'I don't know' to _everything_!" Eight bent down, looking at the different drinks.

"I do not! And how'd you get alcohol, anyway?"

"It's for Pearl! She ordered two, and I obeyed the order. Callie gets matcha tea if she ever comes back, Four gets apple juice, Marie gets iced tea, and Marina gets vegetable juice."

"That's it? But what about-"

Three's question was intercut with the clinking of two glasses, revealing that Diss-Pair had ordered some sort of fruit juice, not like what Marina had. Warabi kept drinking, but Ikkan put his cup down.

"Eight, are you sure you don't want anything to drink?"

"Nope! I'm a vessel for your orders, and therefore, I must fulfill them!"

As nice as Eight was, whatever she ate had turned her into a machine for morbid mantras about meat.

"Another thing! One of the donation handlers got a strange visitor a few hours ago," Eight shouted. "I don't know who told me this, but I'd love if you'd listen in."

"Considering that you cut off your own arm, I don't think I'd like to hear it."

Pearl stuck her tongue out. "Fun hater alert! C'mon, Eight, ignore Three and let us hear it!"

Squeaking wheels grabbed everyone's attention, and it was revealed that Callie was in a wheelchair. Marie nonchalantly wheeled her in as she looked around, horribly paranoid and not matching the expression of the one with working legs.

" _Ooh._ " Eight stared intensely at the chair. "A wheelchair? Where'd you get that from?"

"It was pretty old. I found it somewhere. Probably for some past employees."

Four stopped just above Callie. "That fast? How quick did you run?"

"That's not really important-"

"Wait, did you actually steal from people in need?"

Marie froze right when she registered Three's words. She stuttered and tried to form an unintelligible sentence before disappearing back into the same room she came from, causing everybody to look at Three.

"You really have to cut back on your words, Three," mused Eight.

"Yeah. They can be pretty dangerous!" warned Four.

"Whether she did or she didn't, I don't know why you'd say that to her," scolded Marina. "Could somebody else get that chair, please?"

In the light of that task, Three stepped in to help her mentor, quickly grabbing the chair and making sure if Callie was at least somewhat alright. The door leading outside had almost a glowing aura.

"Are we actually going outside? It seems like we've only been here for a few minutes."

"I'd love to go outside. I haven't seen anybody other than you guys for a while."

"You love to do _everything_ , Eight."

"It's way better than your take on life."

Three sneered and turned her head away, pushing Callie outside with the others following behind. By now, that same show-stopper was uncovered, revealing itself to be a multicolored, slimy Squidmas tree with guts strung up like ornaments. Every smell canceled each other out, and there were more than a few towels on the floor. It didn't matter what anybody else wanted to say.

"Callie," whispered Three. "I think they're looking at you."

"Mhm."

"I think they want you to say what you think of it."

"It's..."

Her face scrunched up in disgust before softening, and she gave her final verdict.

"Beautiful. It's absolutely beautiful." 


End file.
